


What he wants

by Splinter



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Furiosa on top, Max gets spoiled, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Movie(s), protective furiosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/pseuds/Splinter
Summary: Anyone who has been through Gastown or Bartertown has seen strap-ons for trade. She would prefer to make her own, she thinks. If she made it, she would know it was clean and sound. And she could make it exactly what he wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ecouterbien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecouterbien/gifts).



> Not exactly a fill for the [smutty_arts art prompt challenge](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Smutty_artsPromptChallenge), but inspired by art [youkaiyume](http://youkaiyume.tumblr.com/) posted there.

“Liked that.” Max’s voice is a deep, satisfied rumble. Furiosa knows exactly what he’s talking about. Going down on him, she’d stroked her hand between his legs, finger pressing at his arsehole. He’d shuddered and gulped, came hard when she did it again. 

“I guessed.” She’d known he’d liked it, of course she’d known. She likes teasing him about it, knows he likes that too. 

She’s lying wrapped around him, spooning him, so much strength and sinew cradled in her arms. She loves his weight and power. He is astonishingly well adapted to the wasteland, her feral, his body barely slowed down by everything he’s been through. His mind is another matter. 

It hadn’t taken her, or the girls, long to work out his instinct for gentleness, stranger and rarer than his fast-healing body. Furiosa, who has survived on rage and vengeance, marvels at how tender he is. She wonders all the more when he’s like this, slowly baring himself for her. She wants to hold him fiercely tight, to make her own body another rampart for him. Instead, she kisses his shoulder.

“Could do it again?” she murmurs, holding him close but soft.

“Your fingers,” he manages. “Or. With…?”

“Yeah,” she says, her mouth on his neck.

She’s not surprised. It’s not something she’s ever tried, but anyone who has been through Gastown or Bartertown has seen strap-ons for trade. She would prefer to make her own, she thinks – partly for privacy, though it’s not as if anyone would bat an eyelid, but really for safety. If she made it, she would know it was clean and sound. And she could make it exactly what he wants.

She kisses the nape of his neck again, her lips working up to his hairline and down again, finding the place under his ear that makes him sigh. She waits until she’s sure he’s relaxed. Then she slides her hand down from its place over his heart, stroking down over ribs and belly to his softened cock, takes a good handful.

“Like this?” She arranges her hand on his shaft, so he’ll know she’s calculating length and thickness.

“Narrower,” he says, at once. “A bit.” So he’s done this before. Good: she’s glad he knows what to do, what he wants. When she kisses his neck again, he takes her hand, tangling their fingers. He snuggles back against her as they settle to sleep.

Making her own toy is a good plan. They can talk about it practically, get used to the idea. Max has definite opinions, though sometimes he blushes when telling her about them. It’s very distracting.

Furiosa barters for different kinds of rubber while she works on a mould, and the best Gastown jelly to practice fingering him. She likes learning his body, inside as well as out. There’s no need to trade for a harness; she has more than enough belts already. Given the way he sometimes responds to her metal arm, she’s not surprised he enjoys helping her work out the right pattern of straps over her hips, around her thighs. She hadn’t expected both her preliminary fittings to end with Max going down on her. 

When they talk about the toy, it becomes clear that he’s only done this with his wife; or maybe that the only times he cares to remember were with his wife. 

Furiosa is not jealous of Jessie. She knows what it’s like to lose the people you love, and your whole world with them. She knows that he can love her and mourn his beloved dead, sometimes in the same moment. But she is envious, sometimes, of young Max and young Jessie, able to enjoy each other so safely in a world that wasn’t yet scarred. She has no idea what that feels like. She wants this to be good, wants to make him happy. It’s not something she can promise him. They don’t talk about it, but she thinks he guesses. He presses close to her, always more attentive when she’s worried. 

She’s pleased with how the toy came out, with his reaction when she first tried it on him. She’d thought perhaps they’d leave it at that – surely it’s easier to do this by hand, which has more control than her hips ever will – but he’d asked for the harness.

“Want it to be you,” he says. Then, when she still doesn’t get it, “You, fucking me.”

They choose a lazy afternoon, her door locked and her schedule cleared, extra towels on the bed and extra water for washing. They both strip before she nudges him back onto the bed. She’s very thorough about fingering him, using lots of jelly. She wants him stretched and relaxed, wants to be sure he’s ready. Max moans at one particular quirk of her fingers, his cock hard.

“Keep doing that, and I won’t last,” he points out. She kisses him again, then goes to wash her hand. She puts her arm back on, settling the straps over her bare breasts, knowing she’ll want both hands. He helps her adjust the second harness, doing up her buckles, greasing her cock and making sure it sits right. They both get giggly at the sight of it, dark rubber sticking up from her crotch. 

They’d agreed to put him on his back: she wants to see his face, to be sure what she’s doing to him. For safety, she’d meant, but Max had blushed again when she said it.

Getting into position takes longer than she expected. She has to remind herself not to climb onto him, shuffling up to kneel between his legs. He nuzzles at her, lets her ease him back and hook his legs over her thighs. 

Now that they’ve started, she allows herself to be bossy about putting him where she wants him, holding his forearm down as she leans in to kiss him. They’re both smiling.

She’d thought he’d be nervous. He isn’t. He slides one hand to her buttock, the other teasing over her side, stroking over leather straps to her breast. When she cups his face, wanting to be sure that he’s comfortable, he tilts his head, sucks her thumb into his mouth.

Furiosa takes that as a challenge. She grips his thighs, tips him further back so she can open his legs up and out. Then she lines up and slides into him, slow and cautious.

“S’okay,” he says, grinding up to meet her.

She grins down at him.

“I haven’t done this before,” she points out, giving a gentle, experimental thrust. “I’m losing my virginity.” Max laughs, then catches his breath at her second thrust.

It’s strange, how the straps tug at her as she moves the toy inside him. She thought she’d find it easy, after her prosthetic arm, but it’s unpredictable, the way the leather tightens against her buttocks. She is very, very careful.

He’d wanted to make the harness good for her too, to rest the rubber cock against her clit. It does touch her, but the pressure isn’t quite what she’d expected. Thrusting is strange, the movement of her hips not at all the same as when he’s inside her. She tilts her pelvis, wriggles a little, trying different angles. He winces when she pushes too hard. 

“Sorry, I'm sorry.” She fights down her fear of hurting him. He strokes her side, slides his hand to her bum to encourage her to move again.

This time, the angle works better, making him shiver. She keeps thrusting there, slow and regular. He grips his leg, holding himself open for her.

If she were using her hand, she’d start curling her fingers now. The toy won’t do that, so she tries a slow roll of her hips, looking for a different way to press just there. 

“Yes – oh –” She can feel the way he clenches, a tug on the harness straps as he clamps down. The muscle of his buttock is trembling against her thigh. She pushes in again, working out a rhythm. Max whimpers, letting his legs fall wider, one hand still on her bum. 

He’s twitching under her. She leans in to kiss him, feels him shiver again. She murmurs against his mouth, her metal arm keeping his knee pulled up, her flesh hand stroking. 

“I’m here, you’re here, it’s good, it’s okay.” She’s almost babbling to him. His head is tilted back, one hand fisted in the pillow, the other holding his thigh up and open for her. He’s panting, cheeks flushed and mouth open, his lips wet and very red. There’s a raw look Max gets when something is almost too much for him. He’s wavering between that and abandon. She doesn’t know which is more beautiful.

He’s always more vulnerable when she makes him the focus, when he’s receiving rather than giving. He’s like this when she goes down, but this way she can see him better, can watch him open himself entirely. Her heart feels tight at it. She wants to keep him steady and safe, to give him a place where he can let go.

She keeps grinding, working at just that spot. He’s already whimpering when she moves her flesh hand to his cock, begins to stroke. He bucks under her, and comes shouting, legs curling up and splaying out. He shouts again, wordless and desperate, when she rocks into him.

She loves it when he fucks her through an orgasm, so she does that now, keeping her hips going as he comes, watching his flushed face and his jerking cock. At last his legs go slack, his eyes closed.

Furiosa eases the toy out of him, her flesh hand firm on his hip. She’s wet, but hasn’t come – she’s not sure if it’s the fit of the harness, or if she needs fingers rather than rubber to get her there. She loosens the straps, lets the harness fall on the stone floor as she starts stroking herself, kneeling between his legs with his thighs still loosely around her. She’s watching his flushed face, his sprawled body, remembering how he’d looked when he shouted. 

She’s so worked up that it won’t take her much to get off. She’s almost there when Max opens his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark. He smiles when he sees her, lies back splayed open and unguarded, watching her come.

Once she does, she curls into him, not stopping to take her arm off. He’s sticky and messy, come all over his belly. She kisses him, covers him, pushing close and feeling his arms around her.

“S’good,” he says, stroking her back. She hadn’t expected him to be the one soothing her.

“I liked it too,” she says, muffled, her face in his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> This one owes a debt to [battle_cat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/pseuds/battle_cat)'s [Shifting Gears](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6181720) and to  
> [xpityx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpityx/pseuds/xpityx)'s [kink meme prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4455188?view_adult=true).
> 
> I headcanon that Gastown is where wastelanders go shopping for sex supplies because of  
> [Tyellas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas)'s fics, particularly [Citadel Nights](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7560889/chapters/17198398).
> 
> *EDITED TO ADD*: And look! As discussed in the comments, [Tyellas wrote a fic in response to this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4591761/chapters/20019955)! It's wonderful!
> 
> I'm at [lurkinghistoric](http://lurkinghistoric.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
